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razor-ramons-thighs · 1 year

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Jealousy Cuts Deep; Why Diesel’s Success Eats Razor Ramon Alive

Transcript below

WHY DIESEL’S SUCCESS EATS RAZOR RAMON ALIVE

( Three page article in four images with the first one being the title featuring Razor and Diesel)

(Page 1)

By Bryan Ethier

THERE ARE NIGHTS when he can’t bear to hear the deafening blare of the diesel truck’s horn. There are nights when the ring announcer’s echoing introduction of “Big Daddy Cool” nearly sends him running from the wrestling arena, and away from the sport that once made him an icon.

Today, he is a man on the razor’s edge.

(A year ago, Razor Ramon was Intercontinental champ and the most popular man in the WWF. Now the “Bad Guy” isn’t such a hot commodity. And it burns him to see that Diesel is.)

[BOLD, SMALL TEXT] One reason Ramon seethes as soon as he sees Diesel is Jeff Jarrett. Diesel manhandled “Double-J” in a series of bouts (top left), while Razor, although he pinned Jarrett several times (above), ultimately came up short in their feud.

A year ago, Razor Ramon towered over the rest of the WWF community. He was the street-smart, 6′8“ Intercontinental champ, the “Bad Guy” with the devilish, crooked grin. He walked around with a toothpick jutting [...] [CONTINUED ON PAGE 2] [...] out of one corner of his mouth, the slick hair, and the 48-hour beard. He looked every bit the cool, entertaining Miami socialite.

Then a funny thing happened, only Ramon found nothing humorous in it. On his way to taking over as the best wrestler in the WWF, an ostentatious bleached-blond with dreams of ruling the billboard country singles chart beat him and took away his Intercontinental title. And when Jeff Jarrett beat Razor Ramon for the I-C crown, he stripped the “Bad Guy” of his gold, and in the process, much of his heart, his drive, ... and his power over the souls of his fans.

Although tall enough to pick up Michael Jordon, Razor Ramon today looks small. Perhaps that’s because every time he sees Diesel wearing the WWF World belt, he feels like he stands about 4′10“. These days, the “Bad Guy” is the “Jealous Guy.” He knows that he should be the one serenading fair maidens, as Diesel has done. He recognises that he is as talented as Diesel, as powerful as Diesel, as intimidating as Diesel, and almost as big as Diesel.

But why can’t Ramon come to grips with the fact that Diesel today is the WWF personified?

“It’s more than jealousy,” confided one WWF fan favorite. “Razor once beat Diesel for the I-C title. He is as physically dominating a wrestler as is Diesel. But he lacks these things: He lacks the friends, he lacks Diesel’s confidence and steely glare, and he lacks the mettle to consistently win big matches. It’s killing him, and his wrestling has suffered for it.”

The demographics prove Diesel is today’s true superstar. He is popular with fans of all ages. Ramon’s popularity is somewhat limited to women who love a man [...] [CONTINUED ON PAGE 3]

[BOLD, SMALL TEXT] Tatanka is just one of many, many men Diesel has pinned this year. On the other hand, Razor has had trouble putting together even modest winning streaks after fully expected 1995 to be his year.

[...] who oozes machismo. More important, no wrestler today has an entourage as charismatic and influential as Diesel. Consider that his unofficial list of cornermen includes news I-C champ Shawn Michaels and Bam Bam Bigelow, two of wrestling’s most popular wrestlers. These three effuse so much energy that it’s impossible to dislike them.

Conversely, Razor’s closest ally is Savio Vega, a friend and capable wrestler. But this duo has yet to distinguish itself in the tag team division. And Vega, unlike Michaels, doesn’t have movie-star looks and attitude.

Then there is the Diesel stare, which is as formidable as Waylon’s Mercy’s sleeperhold. Ramon’s peckish grin works well ... If he has a belt around his [...] [CONTINUED IN NEXT ROW]

[BOLD, SMALL TEXT] Ramon probably feels like exploding when he sees pictures like this. We’re not saying WWF head Vince McMahon shows favoritism towards “Big Daddy Cool,” but it’s no secret he thinks he makes a terrific champion.

[BOLD, SMALL TEXT] You can only expect Ramon to let this jealousy eat at him for a little while longer. He’ll have to act on his feelings sooner or later. When he does, expect more Diesel-Ramon wars.

[...] waist. Therein lies Ramon’s problem. He is a champion stripped of his badge of greatness. And Diesel seems reluctant to offer his nemesis a shot at the World belt.

So just how jealous is Ramon, and will it affect his future in the WWF? People are already beginning to talk about the possibility of him turning rule breaker.

It seems hard to believe that a man as upbeat as the “Bad Guy” could turn had just because he is jealous. Furthermore, Ramon has yet to publicly denounce “Big Daddy Cool.”

Maybe he should. Perhaps he should just have a man-to-man chat with Diesel and open up to him. Be a little vulnerable. Cry a bit. Talk about his emotions. Who are we kidding? That will never happen. What could occur is this: Razor Ramon will continue to struggle in the ring, continue to lose tag team matches with Savio Vega, and his popularity will continue to wane. Depression will set in, but just briefly.

Then the true “Bad Guy” part of him will emerge, awaken with a scream like a three-month old with gas. Then Ramon will be back and and making some noise. He will do something about his jealousy and forget about friendships he made with the WWF’s fan favorites. Remember, he did have a brief stint as a rule breaker in the USWA this spring, and he won the heavyweight title in his first match there. Soon he will be ready to face Diesel in the squared circle. By that time, Razor Ramon the rulebreaker might be back for the long haul .

#razor Ramon #Scott hall #diesel #Kevin nash #wwf #world wrestling federation #wrestling magazine #shout out to my good friend xentex (hostilecityshowdown) for transcribing this one #also hi this has been sitting here for a long time and I’ve just forgotten to get to it #I really hope the layout looks ok #long post

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beskarandblasters · 8 months

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Breaking in the New House

Husband!Din Djarin x Wife!Reader

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Summary: After marrying Din on Mandalore you move into a new house on Nevarro. Din gives Grogu to Greef Karga overnight to christen the new house in the best way possible; by fucking in every single room.

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent, established relationship, took some liberties as to what I think the layout of the house is like, helmet is on and off for sex, oral sex (M and F receiving), Din Djarin is an uncut man and I stand by that, he also has stamina and can pick reader up, cum eating, nipple play, vaginal sex, semi public sex?? (idk they do it against a window 💀), multiple rounds, multiple positions, creampie, squirting, cockwarming, praising, aftercare, use of Mando'a words (cyar'ika = sweetheart, mesh'la = beautiful, riduur = spouse), no use of y/n

“Thanks for taking him for us!” you say, passing Grogu off to Greef Karga.

“Of course. I love this little critter. Is it date night tonight?” he says, taking him in his arms.

“You could say that,” Din says, placing a hand on the small of your back.

You recently moved into a new house on Nevarro following the Mandalorians retaking Mandalore and a spontaneous marriage ceremony for you and Din. And now that you have a stable place to live and don’t have to figure out creative ways to have sex without the Razor Crest, Din wants to fuck you in the new house; every room in the new house. But Karga doesn’t need to know about your plan.

“Stop!” you scold him, turning around and lightly slapping his bicep.

“Right… Well have fun you two!”

You wave goodbye to Grogu and turn to walk home. Din’s hand on the small of your back travels down to your ass, giving it a squeeze.

“Din! We’re still in public!”

“You know I don’t care.”

You sigh in response. “You ready, cyar’ika? I meant it when I said every room.”

“Minus Grogu’s room, of course.”

“We can just do it in the backyard to make up for that.”

“Don’t push your luck,” you laugh.

You walk up the path to your front door and step inside. Din wastes no time taking off his helmet because you can hear the hiss of the modulator behind you. That’s something you’re still getting used to; seeing his face regularly now that you’re married. Not that you’re complaining. You hear him set the helmet down on a shelf behind you and his hands grab your waist, spinning you around to face him. His eyes are filled with pure lust, pupils blown out so wide leaving only a small ring of brown.

“What order should we do this, cyar’ika?”

“Bedroom, living room, kitchen, bathroom? Maybe in the refresher at the end so we can wash up after?”

“Oh yeah you know we’re going to be filthy by the time we’re done,” he says, going in for a kiss.

His lips collide with yours and in an instant the kiss turns passionate. He takes your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging on it lightly and letting out a small groan. He needs to be inside you now.

Your bodies move back and forth in sync, inching your way to the bedroom with you shedding layers of clothing and being careful to not break the kiss. You arrive by the edge of the bed and you’re completely undressed by now but Din is not. He wants you to remove his armor and weapons for him; something he can’t get enough of every time you have sex. The way you respect his creed and treat his armor so gently does something for him. You start with the armor on his thighs, removing each piece and setting them down lightly on the nightstand and working your way up. You take off everything from his breastplate, shoulder pauldrons, belt, vibrances, holster, everything until he’s just in his flight suit. You notice the large bulge already forming against the fabric. He takes off his gloves, boots and flight suit, leaving them in a small pile on the floor. And there he stands in front of you, completely bare. Your riduur being naked in front of you shouldn’t be such a surprise but up until now, sex was always something spontaneous; wherever you could fit it in, leaving no time for him to remove everything and be completely vulnerable with you. But here with you in this house he feels safe. Your eyes trail up and down his form, taking in every detail from his scars, body hair, and tummy. And also his hard cock; roughly eight inches long, uncut with a patch of pubic hair he keeps neat. And it’s all for you.

“You like what you see, cyar’ika?”

“Always,” you smile, meeting his gaze.

You sit on the edge of the bed, waiting for him to take the lead. He falls to his knees in front of your legs and spreads them apart. He brings his hand to your belly and pushes lightly, prompting you to lay down. You oblige and rest your back on the bed, shivering in anticipation of his touch. His hand starts at your inner ankle, slowly moving upwards to your thigh. He pauses and stares at your cunt, already glistening for him and only him. He rests the side of his face on your inner thigh and asks, “Ready, riduur?”

“Please, Din,” you beg, aching for his touch already.

“So needy,” he chuckles, his warm breath tickling you.

He brings his tongue to your cunt, licking slowly up and down your sex. Your breath shudders every time he draws closer to your clit. With one last slow lick up your cunt he moves to your clit, sucking with determination to get you to cum. You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging on it every time he adds more pressure. You arch your back in pleasure, writing against him as he keeps sucking on your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Having him eat you out was rare for you, only taking off his helmet under the cover of darkness. And to be here married to him, helmet off with the lights on as he eats you out while you lay on a real bed is something you only thought possible in your dreams. You grind yourself against his face, aching for more contact, basically fucking yourself against his face at this point. With one last swirl of his tongue around your clit you’re coming, costing the lower half of his face with your release. It’s a big orgasm, making all of your limbs feel tingly with pleasure and you’re far from done with orgasms for the night.

He pulls away once the movement of your hips slows down and sits beside you on the bed, watching your chest rise and fall as you catch your breath.

“That was amazing, Din,” you breathe out, still a little shaky.

“There’s more where that came from, cyar’ika.”

You giggle and say, “Oh yeah? But now it’s your turn,” moving down to where he was on the floor.

You kneel beside the bed, taking his hard length in your hand and giving it a few strokes. You press kisses all over his thighs and groin, everywhere but his cock, making him ache for it. You bring your lips to the head of his cock when you decide he’s had enough teasing, swirling your tongue around the head and under the foreskin before taking his length into your mouth, as much as you can fit. You hear him curse and pant above you, followed by a strained, “cyar’ika”.

Your other hand cups his balls lightly and that’s when you feel him go crazy, completely desperate for more. You bob your head up and down, keeping one hand at the base of his cock and the other holding his balls a little tighter. You switch back and forth between taking his shaft in your mouth and playing with his foreskin with your tongue. His balls tense up in your hand and you know he’s about to cum. You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, stroking his cock so the head rests against your flat tongue, getting ready to swallow his cum. With one last stroke of his shaft and squeeze in his he’s coming hard, letting out a jumbled string of groans, obscenities and your name. You swallow every last drop of his release before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and sitting on the bed beside him, watching him catch his breath this time.

He grabs your waist and lays down on the bed, pulling you against him. His cock still hard and upright but that was to be expected. He’s been dreaming of his moment ever since he decided to move here.

“You take care of me so well, riduur,” he whispers, pressing a kiss against your lips.

“Of course,” you say, kissing him back before moving to straddle him. You sink down onto his cock slowly, both of you sighing at the familiar, warm feeling. His cock stretches your walls and brushes against your cervix; something you had to get used to at first, just the sheer size of him. But now it’s like you two were made for each other, like his cock is right where it belongs; buried inside your cunt.

You rock your hips back and forth and his hands grip the soft skin of your waist. Every moment you make buries his cock deeper inside you, your breasts bouncing perfectly for him. He removes one hand from your waist and brings it to the outline of one of your breasts, caressing it softly before moving to your nipple. He takes it between his fingertips and pinches it lightly, driving you insane and emitting a soft whine from you.

“Din, I’m gonna cum soon,” you whine as he moves from one breast to the other.

“Do it, cyar’ika. Soak my cock,” he says, desperate to feel your cunt squeeze his cock already.

With one last grind of your hips against him you’re coming hard, the head of his cock nestled against your cervix as you cum. Your cunt flutters and pulsates around him, gripping his cock in erratic patterns. The movement of your hips slows and comes to a stop as your high comes to an end. As for Din… he’s still completely hard.

“Alright next room, mesh’la,” he says, squeezing your ass.

You groan, not wanting him to leave your cunt just yet, but you know he’s gonna keep fucking you relentlessly. You hop off of him and stand, knees buckling underneath you already. He grabs your waist to keep you steady before leading you to the living room in front of the house. He grabs his helmet off the shelf and puts it back on, prompting you to ask, “What for?”

“Against the window, cyar’ika,” he says.

“Against the window?”

“Mhm. In case anyone needs to be reminded who you belong to.”

How can you say no to that?

You draw the curtains and look outside. The sun is starting to set. You situate yourself in front of the window and bend over, sticking your ass out for him and pressing your hands against the glass. He enters you slowly, letting out a modulated moan as he cock returns to where it belongs. Your breasts are flush against the window and your head is turned to the side as he thrusts in and out of you. You have a rush of adrenaline at the thought of anyone walking by and seeing you. The thought of someone seeing you take your riduur’s cock just adds to your arousal. It’s like he can sense what does to you, how wet that makes you.

“Dirty girl,” he says, “I bet you want someone to see us.”

You just moan in response because you know it’s true. He keeps his grip on your hips tight as he fucks you relentlessly, drawing back and slamming into you with force. Your legs are getting weaker underneath you and if you didn’t have the window to keep you upright you’d surely be collapsing right now. He reaches around you and brings a hand to your clit, rubbing small circles around it as he continues to plow you. And this is it, you’re gonna cum again for the third time tonight. Your third orgasm rips through you, even more intense than the previous ones. A warm tingling feeling originates at your core and spreads outwards, making your whole body feel euphoric. With one last slam of his hips into you he’s coming, too. He paints your insides with his cum, keeping you in place against the window before pulling out when he’s finished. You stand upright and lean back into him. He wraps his arms around you as you both catch your breath.

“Quick break?”

“Mhm. Quick,” you say.

He chuckles and lets go of you to shut the curtains and remove his helmet again. You sit down next to each other on the couch, both of you slick with sweat from the evening’s activities. He glances over at you, breathing deeply from being fucked hard and your nipples perked up, eyeing you up and down as you’re curled up next to him. His thighs are spread apart slightly and his cock is still hard in his lap, moving slightly as he breathes.

This is supposed to be your breather but… you can’t resist. You move into his lap and straddle him, sinking down on his cock again. You’re not really looking to fuck again. You just missed the feeling of him inside you. He doesn’t protest or say a word, understanding your actions completely. You lean forward and rest against his chest. He rubs your back and whispers words of praise in your ear.

“You’re doing so well, cyar’ika, taking my cock like this.”

You hum in response as you relax for a moment, reveling in the feeling of being full without any movement.

“Ready for the next room, mesh’la?” he asks, after you’ve both had a moment to rest.

“Mhm,” you sigh, reluctantly pulling yourself off him again.

You walk to the kitchen and decide where you want to do it. You could have him fuck over the sink but it’d be similar to the position you just did in the living room. You turn to the kitchen table and notice it’s the perfect height for you to splay out on top of it as he stands at the edge.

“Right here?” you ask, placing a hand on top of the table.

“Right where we eat, cyar’ika?”

Blood rushes to your cheeks as you feel then heat up. Maybe that wasn’t a good call. But instead he loves it, grabbing your waist and pulling you into him.

“Dirty girl you are,” he says, kissing you, “On the table for me.”

You nod and feel a little stupid for getting embarrassed but nevertheless you climb on top of the table, your cunt at the edge of the table and your legs hanging over.

He bends down and licks another stripe up your cunt, something you weren’t expecting and it sends a shiver up your spine.

“What? I have to eat it on the table, cyar’ika,” he chuckles before returning to lap your cunt.

You sigh as his tongue tracing around your cunt and back up to your clit, finishing by sucking on it to get you nice and ready for him again. He stands and aligns himself with your entrance, pushing into you once more. But this time he pushes down on your abdomen as he fucks you, right where his cock is buried deep inside you. It’s intense; a newfound sensation you’ve never had before.

“Stars, Din, that feels good,” you moan as your pleasure mounds.

“Mhm, I bet, cyar’ika.”

He adds a bit more pressure, not enough to hurt you or bother you but just enough to make you feel even better. His thumb returns to your clit again and you feel like the floodgates are about to burst. And they do. Before you know it you’re squirting all over the kitchen table; all over him. And it makes him feral. Yes, you’ve squirted for him before but he’s never been able to see it without the helmet in the way and he can’t get enough.

“Yes, just like that, cyar’ika. Cum all over my cock,” he says, fucking you harder as he grows more and more obsessed. Your soft moans and cries fill the kitchen as he fucks you through your orgasm. And somehow, it’s more intense than the previous ones. You don’t know how that’s even possible but leave it to Din to make you feel this good.

He buries his cock into you down to the hilt and spills his release into you with a groan. His eyes are closed as he rides out his immense pleasure. You can’t believe the stamina he’s had tonight but then again you can. Your riduur is completely feral for you and only you. Completely delirious on making you cum over and over again on his cock.

He pulls out and stares at the absolute mess you both made. Your cunt is soaked with your release and his, dripping from the table and onto the floor. You sit up so you can see it for yourself, marveling at the sheer amount of liquid you both produced. He grabs your chin and kisses you again, tugging at your bottom lip and growling against you, “Good girl”finishing with another kiss before pulling away.

He helps you off the table as your legs just keep getting shakier as the night progresses. It’s time for the final round; in the refresher in the bathroom. You follow him into the bathroom and he turns the water on, letting the small space feel with steam. You step inside and let the water run down your body, soothing the soreness you’ve built up tonight. He wraps your arms around you from behind and pulls you into his chest.

“You’re so tired, cyar’ika,” he muses.

“Mhm. But I’m not giving up, not now,” you sigh.

“Good,” he says, pressing a kiss by your ear, “Turn around for me.”

You do as you're told and turn around for him, facing him and staring down at his still hard cock. He bends down and picks you up by hooking his arms around your thighs, pinning you against the refresher wall and bringing you down onto his cock. It always amazes you how strong your riduur is, how he can pick you up and fuck you so effortlessly. He plows into you against the wall and you think back to all the different places and positions you’ve been fucked in tonight. You’re truly spent but that doesn’t mean you’re tapping out now, not at the final round.

Your bodies are pressed up against each other, warm and wet from the shower. His biceps are peppered in droplets of water as he keeps his grip on you tight, fucking you in truly an animalistic way. His hair is getting wet from the water above and you take a mental picture of this sight; the first time having sex in the refresher with Din.

The sounds in the small bathroom are truly obscene, between your moans, his grunts and the sound of skin colliding with skin you’re grateful no one is around. With one last slam of his hips you’re coming undone, writhing against him and the wall. He keeps his arms hooked tightly around your thighs as he cums, too, releasing his final load of the night inside you. He keeps you upright against the wall until he’s sure you’re done riding out your high before letting you down gently, helping you get steady on your feet.

“Thank you, cyar’ika,” he says, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into him.

“Of course, my love,” you say, “I had so much fun and I’m glad we finally have a home together.”

“Me, too,” he says, kissing your forehead.

He knows you’re exhausted and he wants to take care of you. So, he grabs the soap and starts washing you, lathering up your body as you hold onto him for stability. He rinses you off and washes himself quickly to get you into bed already. He helps you out of the refresher, keeping your hand in his as you step out. He grabs towels and wraps one around your shoulder and his own around his waist before walking you back to the bedroom. He helps you dry off, running the towel up and down your legs, across your back and the rest of your body. You both choose to sleep naked and pressed up against each other. You both crawl into bed, resting your head on his chest as he rubs your back and kisses the top of your head.

“I love you, cyar’ika,” he murmurs.

“I love you, too, Din,” you reply, feeling sleep start to overtake you.

“Oh!” he says suddenly, “We forgot the backyard.”

“Let it be a morning delight, my love,” you whisper.

“Deal,” he whispers back with one last kiss to the top of your head.

That was certainly a way to break in the new house.

End note: Thought of this idea today and it wouldn't leave me alone!! Send me requests for the tin can man, I’m a bit feral for him rn 😵‍💫

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theminecraftbee · 4 months

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minotaur Joe for the fanon swap prompts? i feel like he'd do something very philosophical and Joe(tm) about mythology. or butterfly/moth Joe?

After waking up with a headache and looking in the mirror to shave, Joe pauses. He stares at his reflection in the mirror. For the past several days, he hadn't thought anything of it; it's usual enough, for a hermit to start to get weird as the day of the start of a new project approaches. Why, if all that moon stuff hadn't happened, Joe can only imagine what growing snakes would have been like for Cleo.

He wonders if it was anything like this: Joe wakes up, stretches, hears weird clacking as he goes to the bathroom, goes to grab his razor, and rather abruptly realizes that he doesn't have a beard, or, rather, that since he now has a bull's head, he has far more beard than can possibly be reasonably shaved, and he should throw the whole concept of 'shaving a beard' out the window.

"Huh," he says. "I guess growing horns does give people a headache? Who knew?"

If his voice is wavering as he says it, well, no one's around to hear. They're between seasons, and while Joe is sharing a server with several hermits at the moment, his mountain lodge doesn't have much by way of neighbors. He's alone to have this horrible revelation.

"How will the bunny ears look with the bull head?" he asks himself. He tries to picture the result and, determining it a little less existentially terrifying than a sudden, unplanned change of species, decides to put them on. He nods. "I am a Playboy Minotaur," he mutters to himself. "I am confident! Composed! Perhaps even a sexyman? Eh, I'll workshop it. I wonder if there's better-matching armor for this..."

He hitches in his morning routine when he realizes the weird clacking he'd been hearing had been hooves. Realistically, he should now be wondering how well any of his boots will fit, now that he doesn't really have toes, and if he needs to be shoed, like a horse might, to protect the hooves from damage instead. Realistically, he should be contacting Iskall about whatever modifications need to be made for the remainder of his time hunting vaults before season 10 starts. Realistically, he should be hunting down one of the less-human hermits and asking if eating burgers to gain levels is now cannibalism. All of these things are realistic concerns that he can bother people about right now, if he wants to!

Unrealistically, he's thinking more about a conversation he'd had with Cub the other day as he stares at his hooves, hands shaking far, far more than he'd care to admit.

They'd been arguing about who Daedalus was.

It had started when they started planning together. Joe had mentioned wanting to build a labyrinth a little bit ago, and Cub, who apparently loved building mazes, was going to help out with the planning. With any luck, all of the hermits were going to help build it! He'd rambled about giving himself a bit of themeing about Theseus as a result, about conquering this whole labyrinth build, this project he'd designed not to really have an end. About having to guide himself in and out through twisting tunnels.

Cub had then pointed out that if Joe had been building it, that technically makes him Daedalus; the one guy who knew the layout, the genius inventor building the trap for the server, designing its hallways. Joe had argued that was who Cub would be; Cub is the expert madman inventor being brought on, and Joe just like, wanted to build a maze. Cub had said that that sort of made Joe Minos then, but given season seven, the guy who once got cursed to turn everything he touched to gold didn't feel very fitting. Joe had agreed it hadn't fit. Maybe they'd split Daedalus then, if Theseus was a little too thematically muddled?

They'd laughed about it. Joe hadn't really intended for the maze to be based on myth, anyway. That would be stealing Cleo's bit, and he knows better than to do that.

And yet.

"We didn't consider I might be the Minotaur," Joe says to no one in particular. "You know. Of the figures associated with the Labyrinth, we didn't consider the big bull trapped in the middle. I should tell Cub we forgot about that one. It'll be a real laugh."

He can't quite say out loud the thing he's really thinking, which is this:

Well, if the universe has decided the guy with the maze won't be the hero, or the inventor, or the king, but the bull it was designed to trap--well. What's that say about him, exactly, in symbology?

"Maybe it's just in reference to the vaults," he says, trying to hype himself up. It falls a little flat. He takes a deep breath. He realizes he's still holding his razor, even after crossing his house to get the bunny ears. He goes to put the razor down and catches sight of his head in the mirror once again.

Monstrous. He's friends with a lot of monsters, of course; he's known Cleo for more than a decade. And his mannerisms, they're still him. But right then, in that moment...

He pokes the bunny ears.

"I am the Playboy Minotaur," he says, more insistently. "Didn't Iskall have that dress he had covered in flowers? That's what's really important here. That, and the obligatory cannibalism if I want to reach the level 100 goal in time, of course. The Minotaur clearly ate meat, despite being a cow, and ate people, despite being half person, but we really know nothing about what cow would do to my diet. Hold on, I have a very confusing message I can write Iskall about this one."

He deliberately turns away from the mirror and goes to write Iskall something that will explain nothing at all, and then tell Cub about their oversight. It's not like he can change it now.

#answered #ask game #hermitcraft #joe hills #a bee fic #prompt ficlet #minotaur joe is VERY GOOD given. his season 10 plans. you know #man builds a labyrinth. somewhat concerned and upset to discover that he's the guy who's going to be trapped in it.

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scythidol · 2 months

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RAZOR LAYOUTS . . . not a req!

REBLOG & CREDIT TO USE

#‘ O3 ― graphics & layouts ’#razor #razor genshin impact #genshin impact #layout #tumblr layout #tumblr layouts

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alitheakorogane · 1 year

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Freedom's Protection: A Blasphemy or The Truth?

Summary: Venti's outburst shocks everyone, making the people of Mondstadt question everything they knew about their Archon.

This is the third part of Mondstadt's storyline for the Reader Protection Squad SAGAU series.

Note: There are instances of grammatical errors, please bear with me. Also, the entire layout was now changed and I placed a title on them so I could not be confused while I write the next chapters. It's still the same story though.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3 (current), 4, 5, 6, 7

"What if your dear Anemo Archon was also like them, an imposter who also steals someone's face?!"

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Everyone couldn't believe what the young bard was saying, especially those who are very devoted to Lord Barbatos. The Anemo Archon is also an imposter?

Bennett and Fischl who accompanied him looked at Venti with surprised looks on their faces, while Razor was confused about what happened. On the other hand, you were shocked at what the bard did, even though you had expected him to do something stupid after Eula's harsh statement regarding imposters.

To be honest, you can understand why the usual happy and mischievous bard suddenly snaps out and break down at everyone. Eula's statement may be intended for you but it also applies to Venti's situation, and her scathing words hit the Anemo Archon on a personal level. You guessed that not everyone knows his real story, not even his very devout followers in his church, as you had remembered that only the Traveler was the one who had truly opened up about his real feelings of loss by telling his story about his bard friend in his story quest.

They didn't know who he really is... because all knowledge that the Mondstadters knew about their beloved Archon is from secondary sources, from the words of other people, and not really from Venti himself.

They never knew how hard is to pretend to be someone he really isn't. You know it wasn't his choice to rule a nation, since Andrius had stepped down from being a suitable candidate but Venti had tried his best to fulfill the wishes of his beloved friend before he had died: for Mondstadt to be free.

Mondstadters from the past to the present saw his Archon persona in rose-colored glasses, portraying him as regal, poised, and hardworking as his people (they were also overworked because they thought they can emulate Lord Barbatos' 'hardworking' work ethic) who value the concept of freedom over his domain, not knowing that their Archon is actually a happy-go-lucky troublemaker who has the heart of gold, who really likes apples and Dandelion Wine to the point of breaking the records for most shots a Mondstadter can drink in one go, or how he likes to annoy people with his songs and pranks when he feels like it.

You had sympathized with him, as you and he are similar in some aspects. You always force a bright smile on your face and feel optimistic, even though there are times that you feel like you wanted to give up on everything. You can crack jokes over your so-called friends, laugh at the corniest punchlines, and put up some masks on other people, saying to them that you're okay even though it really isn't.

There is a reason why you loved playing Genshin Impact, it's not because of the waifus or husbandos or you just want to have fun and spend over nothing, but it was an escape from your loneliness and the reality. You feel loved when the game greeted you on your birthday before anyone can and was given you a digital cake even though you know it was coded to be like that. You feel happy when your favorite character had come home and when you listened to their voice lines where they said something good about you.

You think that someone took pity on you and whisk you away to the beautiful continent of Teyvat, but it seems that there's a mistake. The moment you were spat at by the same characters you really loved, you feel like you were really unloved by anyone no matter what world you've been thrown in. You're not suicidal, but at that moment, the urge to throw yourself off the cliff and unto the waters of Cider Lake to drown was very strong.

So when you met Bennett, Razor, and Fischl for the first time and they had befriended you no matter what others say something bad about you, you feel happy that someone had accepted you the way you are, and you wanna cry with tears of joy.

And when Venti, the actual Anemo Archon of Mondstadt, came to your rescue, you feel like you were lucky that someone out there still appreciated your existence. You silently thank whoever is above that gives you some mercy over this forsaken world.

Meanwhile, Barbara Pegg, the lovely Deaconess of the Church of Favonius, couldn't help but ponder over what the bard had said. You had noticed how she was not as defensive as the other nuns present, but you just brushed it off as she was just in shock. You were unfortunately wrong about your assumptions, for you underestimated her just because you know from her game appearances that she was oblivious to her Archon being literally meters away from her.

She may be a devout follower of the Anemo Archon, but as a Gunnhildr, she had access to a certain diary of one of their ancestors living at the time of Decarabian, along with her older sister Jean.

She remembered a passage regarding a wind elf and his human friend who died in the rebellion, after her mother, Frederica, had let her read the family heirloom after Barbara joined the church as a Deaconess.

"The young leader had unfortunately passed away by a stray arrow to the heart, the winds took away his young life so early. We were devastated to see the one who had awakened our hearts and fought for freedom die in the rebellion against Lord Decarabian, but no one grieves more than the Elf, who was with him till the end. The Elf has done the unthinkable after they had ascended into a god by Celestia: they had taken the form of his human friend so he could see the free world under the eyes of the Elf, who was now under the name of Barbatos, the new Anemo Archon of Mondstadt."

Imagine Barbara's surprise when she found out about that, she had never read this information in any Mondstadt history books or tomes she had come across. She knew that her ancestor had been part of the first Mondstadt rebellion against Lord Decarabian, so she could assume that it was a legitimate source.

At the time, she can't believe that Lord Barbatos' current form seen in the statues isn't his, to begin with, for it was based on his human friend who had died in the first rebellion. Today, she had doubts about the issue, especially when the bard had brought it up.

"If that's the case, then it's true that Lord Barbatos is technically an imposter, just like how Mr. Bard had said," she thought to herself, "But how he known about that if that information isn't in the books I have ever read about our Archon? Did I miss a book?"

She looked at her older sister who was still standing with Diluc with a troubled look in her eyes like she was pondering about something. She ever wondered if Jean still remembered the contents of the diary or knew something about Venti. As far as she was concerned, Venti knew the Honorary Knight, Jean, and DIluc personally due to their involvement during the Stormterror crisis.

She knew that Venti can summon Dvalin, one of the Four Winds, when they went to the Golden Apple Archipelago months ago. He is also the only one she can't heal with her Hydro Vision, the first time since she had been blessed by the gods. He had an angelic voice and an exceptional talent for playing the lyre, which to be honest, Barbara was slightly jealous of. And he just recently appeared on Mondstadt, which was coincidentally the time when Dvalin, known as Stormterror that time, had attacked Mondstadt.

Who really is Venti anyway?

"Blasphemy!" One of the nuns screamed as her fellow comrades and citizens agreed with her, "Lord Barbatos isn't an imposter, you blasphemous child. How dare you speak to the Archon that way?!"

"History books had never told the Anemo Archon's whole story!" Venti continued as he lowered his bow down, his right arm wiping the stray tears on his cheeks. You wanted to comfort him, to hug him in your arms, but the situation was so tense that you prefer not to, for now.

"You just knew him because of those books and those spoken stories that always praise him! And in every single one of them, he was portrayed as a divinity who committed no mistakes and made some exceptional deeds just because he is an Archon. You may think that he is perfect, but news flash people, he's not! He's as flawed as any other mortal out there! He should have saved his dear friend if he was as perfect and powerful as you think he was!"

He was glaring at the people in front of him, his aqua-green eyes glowing in intensity, "You had never known that he was originally a wind wisp who had taken the form of a dead friend to honor a wish. He had never saved his dear friend... if only that blasted wind wisp was a second too early, his friend wouldn't have died in the rebellion! That friend of his was the one who started the peak of the rebellion, who had sang songs of freedom, and guess what, no one remembers his name or even his sacrificial deeds!"

Venti closed his eyes as he continued speaking, a look of nostalgia etched in his eyes as he stared at the skies above, "Freedom was given to all of you due to a sacrifice of a human who was now forgotten by history, but his face... his young face now lived on under the facade of Lord Barbatos. Without the bard's final wish, Lord Barbatos would never make freedom his ideal for Mondstadt..."

"...He would never have been the weakest among the Seven Archons if he had never fulfilled his dear friend's dying wish."

"And how would you know about that? Why would you try to defame Anemo Archon Barsibato just to manipulate our minds about the imposter?!" Rosaria harshly interrogated Venti who just spewed some blasphemous information about their Archon, her polearm pointed at the bard.

The nuns of the Church of Favonius had deadpan looks on their faces over Rosaria's mistake over Lord Barbatos' name, while the citizens who believed in the Archon glared at Venti for his statement.

To their surprise, the young Anemo user smiled at them, but they could guess that he was actually smirking. He chuckled as he bowed his head, bangs covering his beautiful eyes. It left people confused and scared, especially the Knights and the Church nuns. They had never seen this side of the bard who they have just known to be as mischievous and happy-go-lucky all the time.

You felt chills when you see his smirk, as you had an image of a young-looking boy with angelic wings who looked at the people with a menacing smile, the bow on his hands was stained in blood. You then realized that you had seen a glimpse of Venti in his Archon form, and it was possible that it was him in the Khaenri'ah disaster 500 years ago!

His Elegy of the End bow was still on his hand as he dared to respond with a playful tone at the young nun, staring at her with a coldness that could rival someone with a Cryo Vision, as if he was scolding a young misbehaving child, "You could say that I am more than just a mere drunkard bard, Miss Rosaria."

"After all, how could I ever spread blasphemous words about myself?"

--------------

BADASS VENTI IS LIFE.

Well, this is Part 3 of the Reader Protection Squad series of one-shots, where someone is trying to protect the Reader from being pelted down by the Divine Creator's obsessive acolytes.

This one was also cut into two parts, so there is a possible Part 4 regarding Venti helping you off. (sigh) I think I will do a full-blown fanfic if I kept this up. I also write the Reader's inner thoughts, based on my experience. I couldn't help but shed a tear when I wrote this part.

To those who are new to my story, in this series, Venti is part of your protection squad in this Imposter AU concept, one of the two Archons who are going to help you. He is usually the mischaracterized character in SAGAU fics, and I wanted to do justice to my boi's character.

I made Barbara more perceptive than she was on canon, because why not? I made her a book enthusiast, she likes to read books in her free time just like her older sister (if she is not busy with her idol work, practice, healing, and church duties). Her possible favorite books are about Lord Barbatos and his deeds to Mondstadt.

And here's Rosaria and her mishaps with Venti's Archon name...🤣

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Taglist: @eimuros, @vvyeislazzy, @ansyistiredsstuff, @haru-tofuu, @coquettemaiden, @voidlesslove, @depressed-bitchy-demon, @yuukaaariyuuu, @g3n0dtt, @misswitchthewindborn, @lumpywolf, @c00kie-cat, @mulandi, @genshin-impacts-me, @bloop-booop

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secondaxispoint · 1 year

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Din Djarin x Male!Mando!Reader

Pairing: Din Djarin x Male!Mando!Reader

Warning: None!

Content: Fluff

This is from Din’s perspective so the reader has a nickname. No use of y/n. Hope you guys enjoy!

Partners

Din had been so used to living alone that when another Mandalorian offered to join him in his travels, it took him a while to come to terms with it. The man was quiet and intelligent. He was a bit taller than him and had a broad frame. Din had watched the other hunter in action and was surprised he had never met him before. His reddish tinted beskar and durasteel armour looked similar to his own, Mandalorian sigil forged proudly on his shoulder.

Once Din had stepped on board, along with his new partner, he was pleasantly greeted by Grogu. He smiles under his helmet and leans down to pick the creature up. He turns to the other man and starts introductions.

“This is Grogu, Grogu this is…”

He pauses, releasing that he never got a name from the other hunter. He looks up from the little beast he held in his arms. A bit of tension left his shoulders when he heard the warrior laugh through his helmet and step a bit closer.

“Jackal. Nice to meet you little guy.”

Din watches as he leans down and reaches a hand to Grogu who giggles happily and grabs one of his gloved fingers.

“You can get to know him after we get out of here. For now you should get familiar with the controls and layout of the ship.”

Jackal nods and Grogu releases his grip. Din puts him down and makes for the small area where he keeps his weapons. Jackal’s rifle is still clasped to his back and his blaster is still on his hip. He’d have to clear a spot for the other’s weapons. But for now, Din puts his stuff away and leads the man to the very front of the ship. When he hears Jackal’s footsteps become irregular, he looks back to see that Grogu has attached himself to the taller man's calf.

“Y’know it would be easier for both of you if you just picked him up.”

He heard Jackal stifle a laugh as he bent down to pick up the clingy child. Once he had Grogu securely in his arms, he continued on behind Din.

It took a few hours, but the three finally found a safe place to rest for a while. Jackal volunteered to stay up a bit longer due to the lack of space in the ship. Din felt sort of bad but trusted the man to his own devices. He tried to retreat back to his and Grogu’s cramped sleeping quarters but the little one refused to go with him. Grogu climbed up and forced himself into Jackal’s lap. He chuckled and told Din that it was okay and that he would watch over Grogu while he slept.

Din had slept through most of the night, only waking when he heard a quiet knock on the shudder. He opens it to see Jackal standing with a sleeping Grogu in his arms. He silently shuffled out of the sleeping area and offered it to the other. Jackal had a bit tougher time fitting in the makeshift bed but he made it work. Din stretched and prepared himself for the day.

Two years later, the three of you were still together. Din and Jackle had been dancing around their feelings for eachother for over half of it. They shared little moments here and there but never explicitly confronted the other about it. Neither of them wanted to ruin the partnership that they had been building. So feelings continue to go unacknowledged. At least they do until a bounty goes sideways and Jackal almost gets himself killed trying to save Din.

So they both sit in the Razor Crest, panting and bloody. The ship was completely silent besides the ragged breaths coming from the hunters. Grogu was safe and sound with Peli, far away from the shit storm the two created for themselves. Din noticed the stiff and pained posture Jackal had taken. He stood and walked over to the medical area, grabbing a kit, and bringing it back to Jackal.

Din assisted Jackal, laying him down on the floor, and taking his armour off. Albeit not being the cleanest place to tend to an open wound, it was all they had at the moment. With his chest piece off and his weapon put aside, Jackal helped pull the undershirt up enough so that Din could tend to his injury. He had a large vertical gash on his lower left abdomen. Din saw that his midsection was littered with varying healed scars.

He stitches up and bandages the slash before leaning back giving the other some breathing room. Sitting back on his heels, he watched Jackal’s chest rise and fall steadily. Jackal reaches a hand to Din, which he grasps in his own. He helped the man sit up and get up into the co-pilot’s seat in the control room. He grabbed a fresh set of clothes for the injured hunter and gave him some privacy to change. Din stood outside the door, nervously swaying back and forth.

He waited for Jackal to trudge out, hand on his side. Din let out a sigh of relief and offered Jackal his armour back. He didn’t put it back on, instead opting to set it aside and sitting back down in his seat with a groan. Din moved behind him, too restless to sit. He put his hand on the back of Jackal’s chair and spun it around. He wanted to make absolute sure that his partner was going to be okay.

Jackal tilted his head, confused. Din knelt down in front of him with his hands on both sides of the armrests. Jackal said nothing but leaned forward slightly. Din moved his hands down to Jackal’s knees, not pressing any further, just simply setting them there. Din could hear his breath hitch through his helmet. Jackal sat stiff and still until Din started to pull away. Neither man said anything. Jackal grabbed one of Din’s hands and pulled him up to eye level. Slowly leaning forward, Din gently touched his helmet to Jackal’s. He leaned back and sighed.

“What’s wrong?”

Jackal asked, genuinely concerned. Din looked up, and got an idea.

“Do you trust me?”

Din asked the man in front of him.

“With my life.”

The ease with which he said it made Din a bit dizzy.

“Sit tight.”

Din walked to the control panel and Jackal heard him flip a few switches. The lights dimmed and then turned off fully, leaving the men in almost complete darkness. Din carefully moved back in front of Jackal and kneeled in front of him once again. He slowly takes his helmet off and audibly sets it down, hoping Jackal knows what he’s implying. Luckily he does.

He hears Jackal take off his helmet and gently presses it into his hand for him to put down. After placing the helmet down next to his own, Din leaned back up. He stopped about an inch away, he could feel Jackal’s breath on his face.

“Is this okay?”

Din asked in a hushed tone. Instead of responding, Jackal closed the distance between them. The kiss is slow and meaningful. Almost two years of pent up feelings and unresolved tension shone through their intimacy. Jackal moved his hand up and rested it on the back of Din’s neck, the other cupped his jaw. Din tilted his head to deepen the kiss.

Jackal was the first to pull away for air but Din didn’t want the kiss to end. He moved down to pepper Jackal’s neck in love bites and small kisses. Din felt a groan rumble in the back of Jackal’s throat. He finally pulled back and listened to the other man pant in the darkness. Din started to stand up but before he could, Jackal grabbed his hands once again. Only this time he pulled Din towards him.

Din was tugged into Jackal’s lap. Once he was comfortable and not anywhere near Jackal’s injury, Din grabbed both sides of his face and yanked him in again. This time their kiss was more heated. Hands wandered. They both made the most of it since they were probably never going to see each other's faces. Jackal felt the stubble on Din’s face, and ran his fingers through his soft hair.

Although Din couldn’t see, he could imagine what the man in front of him looked like. Flushed cheeks with half-lidded and glossed over eyes. He felt as his cheeks started to burn at the thought. Din was shocked back into reality by a pained groan coming from Jackal. He jumped out of the man’s lap and apologised for losing focus.

“It’s alright Din I’m okay. But maybe we should take a little break for today.”

Jackal chuckled lightly and Din smiled into the darkness. Din fumbled around the ground and grabbed the helmets, putting his on and handing Jackal his. Once both of the Mandalorians were covered, Din slowly turned the lights back on. He saw Jackal, still seated, with his clothes a bit ruffled. He was breathing a bit heavier than normal but other than that he looked okay. He walked back over and offered to lead the fellow hunter back to the makeshift bed with a concealed smile. Jackal accepted his offer gratefully, and the two packed themselves in the small space. They both slept peacefully for the first time in years.

#the mandolarian #the mandaloria/reader #the mandalorian x reader #din jarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x male reader #din and grogu #grogu djarin #x male reader #male reader insert #male reader #pedro pascal

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